Merry Christmas

Twas the day after Christmas
and at Gram Jude's place
we were sitting and eating,
moving at a slow, lazy pace.

The presents were open
and wrap strewn about.
St. Nick had been good,
the kids happy, no doubt.

And I at the 'puter,
and Thor on the couch,
and Pop back in bed,
(Though Jude is no slouch).

Out in the dining room
arose such a clatter.
The kids - always wrestling
- knocked over a platter.

I looked out the window
from there at my seat.
I was glad that the fireplace
threw so much heat.

The clouds in the sky
and the woods full of snow
made us cozy inside,
glad we'd nowhere to go.

I felt bad for Bunny
who worked at the bank.
She had to go in today --
(she'd the shoppers to thank.)

Well, I sat and I wrote
this here poem for you.
Aside from just sitting,
I've nothing to do.

'Though I guess I could help
poor old Jude clean a bit.
The house is quite messy
(but she won't throw a fit.)

And I suppose I should cook
'cause lunch time is here.
Before you know it,
Frank will open a beer.

So I'm gonna sign off now
and make us a bite.
Merry Christmas to all,
and to all a good night!